Burdens
by Kat Bee Dee
Summary: Claudia leaves for college with one promise.  She will return.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 or any of its original characters and plots. If I did, the original sillyband would be the next most despicably evil artifact._

_**Author's Note: **__Alright, here goes nothing. This plot bunny has been thumping at my brain for weeks and weeks. It's obviously multi-chaptered since this is just the prologue. I've been quite nervous about starting it because I tend to abandon multi-chaptered projects I start, but I've finally thought about it long enough and hard enough that I think I've worked up enough courage to put fingers to keyboard and get this idea down. Anyway, stick around! I might throw a few curveballs ;) _

_Also, title and summary are subject to change as I write the chapters to come and get a better feel for things, so I hope I don't lose too many of you! If you like or think you might like what is to come, subscribe so you don't miss it!_

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_Prologue_

Claudia stared into the bleak, white ceiling lights. The strap of her duffel bag cut sharply into her shoulder. The telltale signs of dried tears showed around her eyes, which were glazed over in a lack of focus. A loud voice of a woman over the intercom broke her silent, dazed vigil.

"Flight twelve to New York is now boarding at gate C. Flight twelve to New York is now boarding."

Her head snapped back into place and a piece of indigo hair fell into her amber eyes. Swallowing the thick feeling forming in her mouth, she pivoted slowly on her heel.

"Well, guess that's me," she said, tossing her duffel bag lightly to readjust the strap on her shoulder. She smiled weakly, looking at her friends; her family, putting on her brave face.

Suddenly, she felt the wind knocked out of her as a pair of large, muscular arms wrapped around her torso and squeezed down hard. At any other time she would have swatted the perpetrator, making a sarcastic comment. Here, now, she felt fresh tears threatening to surface. The arms loosened and Pete's fist gave her a light noogie, his grin barely reaching his eyes as he released her. "Go be a college kid, wizard."

Claudia sighed as Pete stepped back into ranks beside Myka. Myka's arms were crossed; her shoulders back and straight; her neck high, but her expression was pained. "You'll do great, Claudia. Make us proud." Even her quaint smile seemed painstakingly pinned into place.

Dropping her bag to the floor, she threw herself into Myka's arms, which immediately fell to her sides before wrapping around the shorter redhaired girl. Claudia felt her tears falling into the curly brown hair that tickled her face, and the tremble of a shaking sob that wasn't her own. Upon releasing her friend and sister, Claudia swiped her hand across her face, discreetly clearing away any moisture that had gathered. She looked from Pete to Myka and back again, shaking her head to clear away the tears that continued to impede. She watched Myka purse her lips and squeeze her eyes shut as her own tears fell.

"I'll miss you guys," she managed to convey, her voice beginning to quake, "so friggin' much. Tell Leena goodbye again for me, and give Artie hell about not coming today."

Myka's face was covered by her hands, wiping tears and mascara away and attempting to compose herself as best as possible. Pete stepped forward again to hug Claudia more gently. "Sure we will, Claud. Wouldn't dream of it any other way." This time his grin was genuine, completely filling his eyes with good-hearted mischief. Dropping her hands back to her sides, Myka gave Claudia a watery smile.

"Last call for flight twelve to New York boarding at gate C."

Claudia reached for her bag, tossing its weight onto her shoulder, its strap cutting into her once more. She looked at her two friends, her expression now hardened as she waited to be sure they were paying attention. Her eyes flitted between the two. Pete; her big brother; her business partner in all things dealing in stealth and misbehavior. Myka; the sister she never had; a comfort in the worst of times; the encouragement to be more than Claudia herself thought she could be. Both sets of eyes focused on her.

"I _will_ be back."

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**_A/N: _**_Don't forget to subscribe if you like! =) Reviews are accepted warmly with lots of cheesy grins =D_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 and its original characters or plots. If I did, there would probably be an artifact having to do with the worst school mascot ever._

_**Author's Note: **__Ah, Chapter 1. I honestly didn't think I would get around to this so soon! But hey, it's okay if I stay up 'til 2AM writing fanfics even though I have school and tests and LIFE to worry about, so long as it's in the good name of Warehouse 13, right? Anyway, thank you so much for reviews and subscriptions I received on the prologue! I hope I don't let any of you down! Again, review if you looove me ;) Kidding, kidding, kidding =P But, for the record, _I_ love _you_!_

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_Eight years later…_

A fierce light poured in through a window, spilling across a gaunt face. A groan escaped lips and slender hands covered squinting eyes. A feminine figure flopped like a dead fish on a bed, now facing the wall and away from the angry light of day. In the cool shade created by her body, eyelids began to flutter open, revealing hazy amber irises. A limp wrist lifted level with the eyes, and the irises screwed to focus on the glowing numerals of a watch.

"Shit!" Claudia hurled herself into motion in a clambering of limbs, "Shit, shit-shit, shit, shit…" she continued to swear under her breath as she hopped about the small, loft-like bedroom, ripping her shirt from the previous day from her body and hunting about for a semi-clean one in the miscellaneous piles of her belongings scattered about her room. She tugged a pair of black Chuck Taylor hightops on before stumbling into the bathroom and falling to a halt in front of the sink. Cold water ran through her fingers and she splashed her face, trying to wash off the dark circles of late nights and over-exertion from beneath her eyes to no avail. She sighed heavily, staring her reflection down.

The woman in the mirror absent-mindedly ran her fingers through a strip of plain, uniform, red hair in the front, as if something might have been there at some point. The woman's nose crinkled with disgust at nearly shoulder-length auburn hair, in a style that somewhat resembled the remains of what might have been a short, stacked style at one point of time, though now badly in need of a trim. Age seemed to have crept up like a thief in the night on the person in the looking glass; lines seemed to have crept their way onto her forehead, and bags fell under her tired, red-rimmed eyes, but her clothing seemed like that of a much younger person, perhaps in their mid-twenties.

Claudia groaned, pulling at her skin to see if it would magically return to the bright fresh-faced ghost of her past. "Yep, just lock yourself in a dungeon with nothing but a computer for a couple years," she told the reflection, her voice dull and sardonic, "that'll do the trick."

College was nothing Claudia had planned it to be. She had imagined four years of terribly boring classes, lacking of any challenge to her; going from class to class to dorms to ignoring whatever people surrounded her; frequent calls and webcam conversations with Pete, Myka, and Joshua to help her keep surfaced in the dreadful ocean of university life; easy work turned in early and perfect scores on each and every assignment and exam. Shortly after arriving did she realize how wrong she had been. To start, though monotonous and boring, the classes and work weren't half so easy as she expected. She quickly found herself devoting more time than she had ever imagined to essay after essay; thesis after thesis. Being naturally independent and rather lazy, as she would gladly admit, the time and effort put in to upholding her scholarships and grants felt like slowly digging her own grave. All the time she had imagined herself using to lounge about in a rather hermit-like manner between classes and phone calls was dashed to pieces the moment she walked into her first class. This was by no means the easy 'A' middle school she remembered. Caught up in schoolwork, her calls back to the Warehouse became further and further between.

Things changed near the end of her second semester of freshman year. She had been planning on going back to South Dakota over break, especially after having stood them up over Christmas to research and write a thesis due the first day back in class. A change leached its way in that brought about the execution of her final expectancy of college: ignoring everyone around her.

Todd.

It had been a rainy day in late April. She was running from her dorm to the library, when he intercepted her, quite by accident. They had stared at one another for several minutes in an awe-filled, dumbfounded, somewhat guilt-induced silence. They both began stammering at once, both running excuses through their heads as to why they had not sought the other out sooner. They shortly discovered that neither cared about the other's shortcomings. And that was the night Todd seduced her.

He led her by the hand down a corridor in what seemed like a dungeon; the basement of some campus building or other. A door opened at the end of hall at his touch, and he led her in. Three college boys sat in a circle of laptops at the center of the room, keyboarding madly. A pale, blonde, pimply one; an awkward, gangly one; and an asian with intense eyes. Todd introduced her to the room, receiving terse greetings in return from the three males whose eyes never left their computer screens. He grinned broadly at her and took his place in the circle, pulling a chair up beside him for her to sit in. He opened his laptop and pulled up document after document of coding, his grin never leaving his lips. His eyes flitted between her face and the screen, awaiting approval. "_This_…is my baby."

Claudia had stared at the screen with her mouth ajar for several moments, her eyes flying over the characters. "I think I just jizzed my pants."

"Want in?"

"Hell. Yes."

She was a goner.

_X_

Exhaling roughly, Claudia brushed her hair away from her face and, after momentarily scrubbing her teeth vigorously with a tooth brush, strode back to her bed, slung her laptop case over her shoulder, and exited the dorm.

It had been three years since she had seen Todd, and yet she was still obsessively honing and perfecting and completing the project he had begun over eight years ago; the same amount of time since she had set foot in South Dakota. She had spent all of this time at the university. Upon completing her bachelor's degree, she had opulent time to dedicate to Todd's project, taking courses only once or twice a week. If she had known getting a master's was so easy, she would have planned her life this way all along. The professors hardly cared so long as she had her papers in on time. Thesis after thesis after thesis, written bombastically without much thought. All of her real care was placed into the Project; kept under wraps so carefully. Their top secret Project. Their someday-we'll-be-billionaires-who-don't-give-a-damn Project.

Anymore, that seemed like a vague mirage of the past.

Taking the steps down to the lobby two at a time, Claudia pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Migraines were the devil. As she rounded a landing in the stairwell, she shook her head, pathetically attempting to shake away the symptoms of sleep deprivation.

"Ms. Donovan."

Claudia halted. Her eyes flew open. That voice; it was too familiar, and she had the sickly feeling she shouldn't be hearing it. She pivoted slowly on her heels, now facing a colored woman in a stiff-looking, scratchy, red dress suit with a beehive of woven hair atop her head. Fierce eyes leered at her over horn-rimmed glasses. Claudia sputtered. For a moment she convinced herself she was having another of her reminiscent, nightmare-ish dreams. The pounding of blood against her skull reminded her that she was wide awake.

"Ah, Ms. Donovan we meet again." Her mouth formed a smirk; her eyes still leering. Though, the smirk wasn't malicious. It had a queer amicable quality.

"Mrs. …Frederick?" Claudia stammered in disbelief. She knew perfectly well the ageless woman's name.

"Claudia," Mrs. Frederick advanced toward her with one step, and pulled a manila envelope out what seemed to be thin air. She held it out toward the redheaded woman, and Claudia took it gingerly, as if it might contain a bomb that would detonate should she move too jarringly. Nodding to the envelope, Mrs. Frederick continued, "It is a matter of utmost importance and urgency that I hope you will not fail to recognize."

Staring down at the yellow-orange encasing in her hands, only a million questions ran through her mind. What was it? Why now? Why her? When she lifted her eyes to question Mrs. Frederick, she found herself staring at the grey wall. The space which the woman had previously occupied was now devoid of any solid matter whatsoever.

Her forehead cinched in frustration, and she looked back at the article in her hands. Hesitant to move a single muscle for a few moments, Claudia worked up her courage. She tore open the envelope in one swift motion and emptied its contents into her hand. A single, cardstock-like, small document fell into her palm and she turned it over to analyze it properly. Then, she gawked, her amber eyes growing wide as she stared at it.

An in-exchangeable airfare ticket to South Dakota. The flight would board at two in the afternoon, the same day.

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_**A/N: **__Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget a sweet little review! Just click that enticing little button down there and type me out a nice sentence or two out of the kindness of your heart ;) The joy of such a thing will have me grinning like an idiot for hours =D_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 and its original characters or plots. If I did, cranberry juice would be an artifact that gives people supernatural powers._

_**Author's Note: **__Look at that! At long last, the next chapter! Sorry it's taken me so long, but I've been spending some time in the bell jar, but I'm okay now and am back and ready to get some continuation going in my stories! Hope you all are still out there and reading! If you reviewed, I would be mighty happy! =D Reviews DO make the world go 'round, dontcha know! Enjoy!_

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Sunlight poured in through the windshield as a small black car sped down the old rural highway. Wind whipped in through open windows. Claudia devoted all of her attention to the road in front of her; her determination being enough at the moment to drown out most all other thoughts. In fact, there was but one solitary thought that penetrated this forced determination and ricocheted back and forth in her skull. The singular thought concerning simply the terrible crick in her neck. She swore under her breath, cursing airline seats and her own inability to remain awake during flight. Sorely rubbing at the top of her spine, Claudia glanced at her GPS system, if only for a lack of anywhere else to look. She knew exactly where she was. Still, she read the data the device relayed to her: approximately thirty minutes from her destination and eighteen minutes from Univille, South Dakota. She had this route memorized.

Bringing her left hand back to the steering wheel of her rental car, she removed her right to crank the volume of the radio up several notches. She cringed at the pop song on the station and racked her brain, trying to bring to the surface of her memory what the signal of the old classic rock station she used to listen to was. With an epiphany, she flipped the station, a complacent smile tugging at her lips at the sound of Pink Floyd.

_He doubled over, his deep laughter bellowing out as she giggled hysterically beside him. His dark eyes gleamed as he looked at her with mock rage. They shouted at one another in unison._

_"How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat!"_

Her stomach flipped with the sudden pang of nostalgia. Reaching for the volume once more, she turned it to its previous level before soberly fixating her eyes on the road ahead of her and tightening her grip on the wheel. She swallowed the sticky feeling in her mouth as the thoughts she had been repressing leapt to the forefront of her mind. _How could she face them?_

Claudia remembered standing in that airport with tears welling in her eyes. She remembered swearing to them she would return. What she didn't understand was how she had blinked and it was now eight years later. She had long since finished the bachelor's degree she had initially set out for. She had failed them. They must hate her. Why would they want to see her face again? She had done no less than betray them. Even if they didn't see it that way, they were sure to have forgotten about her. Not Mrs. Frederick, apparently. _Damn Mrs. Frederick…_

She had never felt guiltier than this since before she retrieved Joshua from the space-time continuum nearly ten years ago. She felt like the worst friend—even more than that—like the worst _family_ member to ever walk the earth. She felt, though she had succeeded in her endeavors whilst away, that she had failed ten times over. She felt like the prodigal son. She felt terrible. She felt…she felt _nauseous_.

Swerving to the side of the road, Claudia stomped on her brakes, throwing everything within the car forward to a halt as she thrust it into park. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel; her eyes squeezed shut and her breaths shallow and uneven. Her shoulders began to shake lightly as tears burned in her eyes. Her face crumpled and then instantly relaxed as she opened her eyes, their amber irises now bright from the fresh tears. She clenched her jaw. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, a shiver ran down her spine and she convulsively shook her head in a vigorous manner, causing auburn hair to fall in her eyes. She pulled in a deep breath and blew the hair out of her eyes. She put the car into drive.

The scenery flew by as Claudia allowed her eyes to glaze over and her mind to go numb. She barely noticed as she stopped at the two intersections in Univille. Her mind went completely blank until she saw, towering over her, an enormous rusted building jutting out of the mountainside rising above her. The car stopped, but she couldn't move.

What if Pete and Myka were in there?

What if _Artie_ was in there?

Of course Artie was in there, he never left—with the exception of the times Leena hogtied him and dragged him back to the bed and breakfast. She swore she had to tranquilize him to get him to sleep.

Years melted away like molten wax. Suddenly Claudia was nineteen years old; so prepared to conquer the world and so sure of herself in doing it. She knew how to build walls around herself to keep out anyone and everyone. She knew how to protect her feelings and emotions. But they _ruined_ that.

The years fit back into place like puzzle pieces. She was twenty-eight years old; so guilt-ridden about everything she had ever done, and yet still determined to finish her task. If only she had rejected their friendship and their affection; the sort of attention she had been starved for. She could have left without ever turning back. And yet, here she was, about the walk directly back down the path she had abandoned; the one she had sworn to return to.

_Why did they need her back anyway? _Her lips curled back in disgust. She didn't ask for this. Then again, how many times had she heard that the Warehouse didn't like to let things go? The answer: plenty enough. So, that made her just another number. An anomy.

Her eyes drifted to the duffel bag she had haphazardly tossed into the passenger seat beside her. Incredulously, she snorted. The last time she had used the bag was to leave this exact place. It was cheap, purchased for twenty dollars—at the most—from some down and out dollar store. She hadn't intended on using it very often even when she bought it. She shook her head and sighed, hesitantly unbuckling her seatbelt. Claudia was smart; she knew this couldn't be avoided forever. She very well knew that Mrs. Frederick was probably expecting her at any moment.

Without bothering to take the key out of the ignition, Claudia threw her door open and clambered out. It wasn't as if there was anyone out in the absolute middle of nowhere sitting around waiting to steal a perfectly shotty rental car with a million miles on it anyway. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she nudged the door closed with her elbow. Her eyes wandered to the top of the Warehouse where sunlight spilled downward and into her eyes, causing her to squint. She took a few slow steps forward, then retreated, only to exercise her own free will. She glanced at the vehicle beside her and pondered the idea of hopping back in and speeding away. Of course, she couldn't. She had no free will to the Warehouse. More specifically, she had no free will to the _Regents_.

Pulling in a deep breath, she strode toward the old rusted door. She jolted as a loud bang of something crashing against the metal of the building sounded. Pivoting, she searched for the source of the noise, her eyes wide and her heart racing. Her eyes narrowed in spite as they found an old football rolling awkwardly toward her. She had seen it a thousand times. Artie threw it over the Warehouse. Pete threw it over the Warehouse. Myka even threw it over the Warehouse when she thought no one else was looking. And the night before she left for that damn college, Claudia had thrown it over the Warehouse. It was her promise. Now she kicked it half-heartedly, scorning it for being yet another reminder of that very promise she had broken.

She sought out the door and yanked it open, knowing it would be unlocked. It swayed open easily and Claudia resisted the urge to glance at the car one last time before ducking inside. The door closed and latched behind her. Her hand touched the railing of the stairs as she took them two at a time. At the bottom of the old metal stairs, a circular white tunnel extended before her. Explosives lined the edges. She charged forward, stopping only at the end to scan her retina and thus unlock the door. It gave her dignity. She could very well have knocked; there was no doubt someone directly on the other side would have heard her and open the door. But her identity was still in the system. The door would unlatch promptly for her, and it did just so. Inhaling, her eyes drifted to the ceiling in a silent prayer before she pulled at the handle and removed the final barrier between herself and Warehouse 13.

_The door swung open. Artie sat in his rolling chair, typing angrily at his old keyboard. She stepped hesitantly over the threshold, her duffel bag cutting into her shoulder. Swallowing slowly, she cleared her throat to make her presence known. "Hey, Artie…"_

_A grunt came in reply. She rolled her eyes and adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder. "Artie, we're about to leave for the airport."_

_The furious typing continued. "Tell Pete and Myka not to dawdle."_

_Twiddling her thumbs, Claudia stepped forward again, "Uh…Artie? Do you wanna uh…come?"_

_The typing halted. Silence screamed between them. The typing resumed. Claudia forced a nervous laugh, "Y'know, nevermind. Dumb idea. Forget I said anything. You're busy. We can just say goodbye here, no big deal."_

_"No big deal," Artie echoed her, confirming the statement._

_Rocking onto the balls of her feet, Claudia cleared her throat again, waiting for him to turn around. He didn't. "Well…bye."_

_"Bye."_

_Turning on her heels, Claudia slowly made her way back to the door. Every moment she took representing another moment she fervently hoped for him to turn around and hug her; give her closure; give her his blessing in going. When she passed through the doorway what seemed like an eternity later, the sound of clicking metal keys still hammered away at her ears. _

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_**A/N:**__ Cliffhanger! Anyway, review if you have 3 seconds to spare, 'cause that is really all it takes! Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 and its original characters or plots. If I did, the would be an artifact that can integrate a thesaurus into your brain._

_**Author's Note: **__Actually not sure how long it took me to get to this chapter, but hopefully the wait wasn't too bad. Not much to say except for I hope you enjoy and review! =) Oh, and I probably didn't proofread this well enough, so let me know of any misspellings or typos and kindly forgiving me for being sleep deprived and wanting to get to bed ;)_

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Her heart pounded in her ears, but there was no mistaking the clattering noise of an ancient keyboard in avid use. Claudia's breath hitched at the irony of it: he was exactly where she left him. There was no denying the identity of the elderly, dumpy man with unmistakable tight, salt and pepper curls. She could even see his glasses. He still wore that same silly coat. _Oh Artie…_

Then she began to panic. At some point, sooner than later, she would have to make her presence known and he would turn to face her. And she would have to look him right in the eyes. And then she would have to speak.

If only there were an easier way. Perhaps she could just sneak past him to find H.G.'s time machine, reboot it, and go back to stop herself from leaving. But she knew the idea was more than idealistic; it was impossible. Now was the time to own up to what she had done. _What had she done?_ Claudia's forehead cinched. She had only betrayed her promise to the only real family she had ever. She had only _abandoned_ them.

Opening her mouth to speak, Claudia took a hesitant step forward. She felt her voice catch. She couldn't do this. But she had to, she really had to. Swallowing the stiff feeling in her mouth, she cleared her throat loudly.

Artie lurched, his eyes flying about the room, settling briefly on everything around him but Claudia. He seemed to have heard a ghost. His eyes were wild. Dark circles enveloped his dark irises, and his eyelids seemed heavy. His facial hair had turned nearly completely white in her absence—the only evidence on his person of the years that had passed. His thick, short fingers pushed their way into his greasy hair, and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He mumbled something under his breath; the traces of swears met Claudia's ears as she watched his ordeal in utter awe. Now she felt like an intruder.

Facial expression relaxing, Artie released a heavy sigh. Claudia subconsciously began backing toward the door through which she had come. She watched his hands fall into his lap and his chair slowly swivel back around to face the computer as his eyes opened. His head shook vigorously, as if to rid himself of a bad dream. Claudia felt her heel hit the doorframe before she heard it; her eyes glued to Artie's head as he stiffened. He had heard her. Her mouth fell ajar as he slowly turned, a tesla gun steadied in his hand until it leveled its aim on her. His eyes lifted to find hers. They were frozen.

"Claudia…" Artie finally sputtered back to life, the tesla nearly toppling out of his hand. Disbelief clouded his expression.

Wracking her brain for a response whilst trying to find her tongue, Claudia continued to gape, dumbfounded, back at him. If their eyes could have told one another any more than they had, perhaps there wouldn't have been any need for words. Artie's eyes posed questions, though they now lacked the initial surprise he had expressed upon first seeing her. More than that, Artie's eyes held guilt—something Claudia could not have missed even if she tried. Her eyes in return conveyed her own growing, burdensome guilt, and screamed the apology she could not put into words. And yet, the word that did finally meet her lips made even her own heart fall.

"Yeah."

Artie shook his head again. All the questions and hurt and guilt and mild surprise dissipated, replaced by the same old demeanor she had always known him to possess. His walls were instantaneously summoned to his side, guarding him once more.

"Well, I suppose it was inevitable. I just didn't think so soon…" His brow furrowed as he fumbled through his thoughts, he turned back to the computer monitor. He continued to mumble under his breath as his fingers regained contact with the keyboard like magnets.

Stepping forward into the room once more, this time with twice the confidence and curiosity, Claudia strode toward Artie. "Wait, Artie…_what_?" Claudia grabbed the back of his chair and forcibly jerked him around to face her. A strange twitch in her gut made her feel the need to make him look her in the eyes. She needed him to believe that she was there.

His eyes surprised her. She had expected them to be wide; full of shock. What she found instead was the same solemn gaze she had witnessed before. Taken aback, she steered herself away from him. Her forehead creased as she looked down at her own hands, and then back at the elderly man before her. A sad smirk was poised on his lips. He sighed and slowly got to his feet, moving toward and then past her. "Your hair is different."

Claudia lifted her hand, absentmindedly rubbing the piece where her stripe used to be between her thumb and forefinger. When she turned to face him again, he was gone. The door leading out to the vast archives of the Warehouse shut softly without latching.

Hustling to catch up to the older man, Claudia threw the door open and started down the stairs that led to the main floor, Artie's head bobbing ahead of her. "Artie! Artie, wait!" Nothing could have amazed her more than how quick her former mentor moved even yet in his old-er age. She ducked around a corner into a dim aisle, spotting Artie still a good few yards away and in motion. "What did you mean by 'so soon'?" she yelled, her voice carrying easily through the broad space between them.

"Not now, Claudia," Artie grumbled loudly in response, turning around another corner.

She jogged to keep the same distance, "Yes 'now', Artie!" Turning about, she realized the aisle she had pivoted onto was devoid of any Artie Nielson. He had disappeared practically into thin air. A noise of deep frustration tore at her throat as she resisted the urge to kick the nearest shelf. She swore under her breath. "Who _are_ you? Mrs. F?"

Pacing back and forth, Claudia debated whether to storm the Warehouse in search of the godforsaken man or to storm her way back up to his office to await his return. Unable to decide, she stomped petulantly, shouting out his name once more.

"Not now!"

The repeated words that echoed back to her made her groan. Eight years, and he still treated her like a child. Sulking, Claudia leaned up against the shelf and let herself slide slowly to the ground. She suddenly began to understand the frustrations she had witnessed in Myka so many years back. Perhaps Claudia at nineteen could have brushed Artie's treatment off with the excuse he gave her; that she was too young, but Claudia at twenty-eight refused to be told the same. No wonder Myka struggled at times to see eye to eye with Artie. Being ordered about like a child as a full grown adult was taunting of one's good nature.

Folding her arms around herself in a hug, Claudia let her head rest in the crook of her elbow as she crouched on the floor. This was not at all how she had envisioned the first ten minutes of her reunion with the Warehouse. Her eyelids felt heavy and she let them drift shut, letting herself slip into half-sleep on the cold floor of the Warehouse. The exhaustion that followed tears—particularly the ones she had shed not but twenty minutes ago, before entering the haunting walls that now enclosed her—seemed to now settle.

"_Yeah, but I know he doesn't mean it…" a woman's voice said softly. A vaguely familiar, warm sensation filled Claudia. It was a feeling she hardly recall, though she was sure she had felt it at some point in her past. She felt steady green eyes on her. "You just have to learn to forgive him. He's…he's nothing but marshmallows on the inside." A smile pulled at full lips, revealing bright teeth. The green eyes glowed._

_Claudia felt confusion. She felt torn, though she didn't know what over. "So why does he coat himself with ugly tar?" She knew the words had come from her own mouth, but she hadn't meant to say them._

"_Because it's hard to survive in this business as marshmallows," the warm voice sighed, lips coming together again. _

_Angry tears filled her eyes, "But why can't he just get over himself! Why can't he just come?"_

_Arms pulled her in, mildly awkward in their movements. Brown curls tickled her face. "He doesn't mean it, Claud…Claudia. Claudia….Claudia! _Claudia!_"_

"Claudia!"

Jolting awake, Claudia lunged forward. She gasped for breath, her head span as she found her footing in reality. Her arms flailed about her for something steady to balance herself on, finally finding the shelf behind her. She pulled herself to her feet, shaking away the dream. Allowing her heart rate to find a steady beat, she turned to face Artie.

"Follow me." He turned and headed back up the aisle at a brisk pace. Claudia furrowed her brow and quickly charged after him. She shook the remnants of sleep from her system as she swiftly climbed the stairs. A thousand thoughts could have filled her mind that didn't. A million more questions than that could have spouted from her mouth, but didn't. Her tranquil and sober state rid her of anything but genuine curiosity as to what Artie would show her.

It occurred to her that their equal guilt had made their confrontation of one another easier for the both of them. She nearly considered herself lucky. In the dim light of the Warehouse, which was darker than she had remembered it, Claudia realized she felt a sense of peace for the first time since she had set foot in the titanic building. Which only made her wonder that if Pete or Myka had been there, she would even still be here, or if the guilt would have propelled her away. She could only imagine what their reaction might have been to her. Lifting her eyes to the rafters, she silently thanked the deity that had kept the pair at bay, at least for now. She was sure a good night's sleep and a fresh morning would make greeting them much easier on her conscience.

Claudia tripped lightly on a loose shoelace, though couldn't be bothered to stop and refasten it. A small smile pulled at her lips as she followed Artie into his office, slowing in preparation for his imminent halt.

But Artie didn't stop at the computer or the board or at any stack of misconstrued papers. Instead, he began ascending the spiral staircase that led to the Warehouse's filing room—far behind in technology. Claudia had always winced at the pathetic amount of paper evidence and documents that was stored in this small sector of the Warehouse, all of which could be converted into computer files that could be much more easily navigated.

Confusion ebbed at her once more. Hesitantly climbing the stairs in his wake, Claudia watched Artie go up. The room around her was dark. She realized for the first time that the entire Warehouse seemed as though someone had dimmed the lights on the main control board. Artie's footsteps echoed on the metal overhead and she quickly leapt up the stairs to close the distance between them. The darkened Warehouse was ominous; she didn't want him too far out of her sight.

When she reached the landing, she met Artie holding a file out toward her. For a moment, her heart swelled. This was the same manila folder that she had witnessed Artie routinely passing out to Pete and Myka whenever a case came in. All of her dreams flooded back to her. The dreams she had gone off to college to achieve. To be an agent. A real one.

Yet, something didn't seem quite right. She hadn't been told of any decision made by the regents to instate her as a field agent. Then again, did they ever tell anyone that? Or did Mrs. Frederick just pop into your life and hand you a one-way plane ticket to South Dakota?

Artie backed away into the large filing room, his back turned to her as she ran her palms along the edges of the file. Her nimble fingers found an extra crease, revealing not just one folder to be in her hands, but two. Her forehead cinched in confusion. Giving in to the peek of her interest, she opened the top file. Green eyes glowed up at her accompanied by an awkward, quirky smile.

The crease in her forehead deepened as she opened the second file to find dark, mischievous black eyes smiling back at her.

"Wha-?" Claudia shook her head, failing to understand. She looked up at Artie, seeking explanation. When her eyes found his staring at twiddling thumbs, she knew. Reeling backward, she dropped the files to the floor like radioactive material. Her mouth gaped ajar.

"Claudia…" Artie began, trying to offer better explanation. He failed to produce one.

"No! No, no, no, no! _Don't_ say it!" Claudia felt hot tears quickly brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill. She squeezed them shut in hopes of blocking out what she knew would come next. Her hands covered her face. She had already decided. She wouldn't believe it. Artie sighed. _She would not believe it._

"Pete and Myka are dead."

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_**A/N:**__ I hope you don't hate me TOO much! I know how you feel. I just killed off two of my favorite characters, too. Review?_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 and its original characters or plots. If I did, the basket Jesus used to feed the 5,000 would SO be an artifact that feeds you 'til you die._

_**Author's Note: **__Well, here it is! The next chapter! Hope you can handle it ;) This one took some work for me to get through. Not sure why, but the words just weren't flowing quite so easily. SO, after I slaved so hard at it, I sure do hope you enjoy it! It's not as long as I thought it would be, but I guess that doesn't matter so long as it says everything I wanted it to say. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you find the kindness within your heart to leave me a review! =)_

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A rough wind swayed the overgrown field in unison, rustling through each blade of grass, weed and bramble. Crickets and cicadas sang harsh melodies back and forth to one another as frogs croaked from a distant stream. The moon cast a glow that seemed too garish for night. It exposed each lurking creature; each billowing tree limb; each windswept flower, nipped in the bud. It gleamed haughtily at its own reflection in every pond and creek. It poured over the earth like a flood light, seeking whom it may steal the silent security of night from. Nothing was left hidden. Not the mouse fleeing its predator, nor the tears shimmering in rivers down a broken face.

She dug her fingers into the moist earth, uprooting wild onions; the rich smell filling her nostrils as she tore them from their stalks. Dirt and clay clung to her hands, lodging beneath each fingernail. A sob raked her body, pulling her shoulders forcibly toward the ground. She cradled her knees, her blinded eyes lifted to the heavens as she rocked back onto her heels. With each passing moment she awaited the moment her tears would reach their limit, evaporating with the horrid trick her mind had played on her. But they didn't

Her heart continued to pound, rushing her eardrums with the rhythmic coursing of her blood. The streams down her face continued to flow. And the most terrible word she had ever heard uttered in the English tongue repeated itself slowly, painstakingly, jeeringly in her mind.

_Dead. Dead. Dead. _

Earthen hands worked through windswept hair, tearing at her scalp. Claudia released a cry into the greatly vast, empty night that encased her, nearly smothering her. She screamed at the moon, shouting her threats at its leering face. Her pain tore at her vocal cords until they became weary of her abuse.

Slowly lowering herself to lie on her stomach, with the cool earth pressed to her face, she allowed herself to inhale and exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

_Dead_.

Her face crumpled. The tears wouldn't come. Claudia's eyes suddenly grew wide, the moon glinting in their amber irises.

"It's not true." She spoke the words aloud to herself, allowing herself to believe. More than belief, she _became_ them. A hoarse laugh escaped her mouth, and she lifted herself from the dirt. "It's not true. They're not dead. They're not dead! They're not-"

Her voice caught.

_"I'm immortal!" He called between to hands, his dark eyes shining gleefully. He laughed, the low rumble filling the field._

_"Pete, you are NOT immortal!" She chastised, giggling as she stepped carefully through the grass, meeting him in the center. A soft breeze carried her curls into her squinted eyes, though she did little to fend them off._

_"Oh, yeah? Wanna bet? The spine, the telegraph, the conch, that door-knocker-thingy mahjig, Elvis's toupee," he listed on his fingers, "C'mon, Mykes! You can throw _anything_ at me! It doesn't matter! I'M IMMORTAL!" He threw his arms over his head victoriously, shouting to the wind._

_"You're not _immortal_, Pete," she refuted, her arms crossed over her chest stubbornly, "You're dead. You're dead nearly five times over! You're SO dead! If I had a stethoscope I'd hear no heartbeat. You're deader than a doorknob. You've got no pulse. You're dead."_

_"I am so NOT dead!" He snatched her hand, pressing it boldly to his chest. Their eyes met and she slowly withdrew her digits from his grasp. His lips tugged softly upward. "See? Alive."_

_She smirked. "Dead."_

Her blood suddenly ran cold. Her pulse ceased its smacking at her eardrums. Her breathing evened. Claudia thought to lift herself off of the ground and carry herself back to the rental car, but she didn't. She spread her palm flat on the earth beside her cheek and let her eyes drifted shut. And though it was faint, she could almost make out the steady thud of a heart deep within the ground that she had never felt before.

'Yo_u have to get up.' _Claudia moaned softly, her physical being making itself known in her conscience once more. _'Get up, dammit, get up.'_

She slowly lifted her head; her eyes squinted against the soft light pouring over her. A groan escaped her lips as she sorely rubbed at her neck, stiff from having lain on the ground. Sitting fully upright, she stretched her back, hearing it pop several times as she did so. Her eyes slowly opened to reveal dirt-caked hands lying in her lap. A faint sunrise pulled her line of vision upward to a pastel horizon until she realized she had cried herself to sleep in a field.

"Oh,...crap." Stumbling slightly, she raised herself to her feet. She pushed her fingers back through her hair as she decided which direction the car would be in. Her forehead creased as she fought hard against the remnants of the delirium that came and went with sleep. She shook her head, groaning, before setting off to her left, heading toward a thicket of trees in the dark west. "This is gonna be hard to explain…"

The day before seemed like a distant dream; perhaps something she had simply thought up in her sleep. Perhaps, in fact, perhaps it never truly happened. Perhaps she managed to find her way to a bar and drink herself into a hallucinating state of oblivion in which her mind played tricks on her and told her things that weren't quite true. Stories that weren't at _all_ true. Perhaps she should just go find her laptop and start working.

That's right, work would clear her head. _Coding_ would clear her head. She could picture the computer; her fingers flying madly over the keys as continued the Project. It almost made her forget that she had just slept in an open field in the middle of nowhere, thinking about the comfort of technology. Perhaps she could even set herself to some medial hacking just for the joy of it.

But, no. She had to work on the Project. She didn't have time for anything else. She had to finish what she had started.

"_You don't even know what you're doing anymore!" _

"_What does that even _mean_, Todd? You started this! _You_ wanted this!" She shouted, her eyes reddening._

"_Yeah! But I didn't know that it would turn into _this_! You can't go on like this, Claudia. You can't. You know it." He backed toward the door, shaking his head._

"_Can't go on like _what_?" She nearly screamed in frustration, pulling the laptop case away from him as he reached for it._

"_Working." _

Her fingers grazed the tips of the grass that rose above her knees as she trudged toward her car, her back to the faint sunrise. It _wasn't_ a dream. She wasn't ready to accept it, but she knew it was real. Coming to a halt, she breathed in the crisp morning air. Her head tilted back, exposing her raw face to the sky. Her mouth opened and she inhaled slowly.

_Dead_.

A gust of wind whispered in her ear, blowing strands of auburn hair into her eyes. She waited for tears to well up once more; to brim and threaten to spill, cleaning shallow rivers through the dried dirt that marred her face. Closing her eyes, she blinked furiously at the stinging dryness of the wind and dust against her eyes. No moisture collected.

She dropped her head, exhaling roughly through her parted lips, cracked from the dry winds. Pulling her jacket more snugly against her body, Claudia trudged onward, the sheen of the black vehicle catching her eye in the distance. As another harsh wave of wind forced her forward, with her head hung low and her hood blown over, she recognized for the first time the thick, knot of emptiness in her center leaching at her insides. It moaned in its misery, playing at her guilt, urging her to walk the plank to oblivion. It slowly seeped its way throughout her entire body, dousing her in its lonesomeness. The pathetic loneliness she now feared she would never rid herself of.

There didn't seem to be _anything _left for her. Her parents. Her brother. Todd.

Pete and Myka.

Her nails dug lightly into the soft flesh on the inside of her wrist; her eyes shut tight against the wind. The pain she felt in return was a small comfort, soothing the hole that gaped inside of her. Her lip tugged upward in disgust with herself. _Hello again, dear bell jar._

Tugging the door open, she threw herself into the driver's seat of the small Buick. The engine whined before sputtering to life. The field slowly grew minute in the rearview mirror, shrinking into the distance. Trees flew past on either side. Wind whipped her hair about her face through the open windows. Her foot eased its weight upon the gas pedal. The hand of the speedometer migrated east.

_Dead._

The sky appeared to have become darker rather brighter. Claudia lifted her foot from the gas pedal to apply it lightly to the brakes, cutting the steering wheel left. The car ambled up the short, rock drive. Parking, she stared. The bleak white siding seemed to be the only source of light in sight. Her eyes floated up to the second window from the left on the second floor of the building before her. The idea occurred to her, and she pondered whether any person had occupied that room since she had left it.

When was the last time _they_ had been here?

"_Claudia! It's _cold_ outside!" Myka shouted after her, laughing. She stood, leaning against the doorway as the redhead tore off into the snow in nothing but a worn t-shirt and pajama shorts._

"_I don't care! I prefer a blizzard to this damn bed and breakfast any day!"_

Sighing, Claudia pulled the key from the ignition and snatched her duffel bag from the passenger seat before clambering back out into the chill of the early morning. She momentarily caught her reflection in the small mirror, betraying to herself the deeply unsanitary state she was in. The last thing she wanted was for someone—anyone—to intercept her path to the shower.

As she entered through the patio door, allowing the door to latch behind her as silently as possible, she surveyed the living room to her left and the dining room to her right. Nothing had changed. Then again, she remembered, property of the Warehouse wasn't very subject to change.

She quickly ducked toward the stairs, stepping as lightly as possible across the hardwood flooring. Having successfully crossed the dining room without crossing paths with anyone, she silently offered her thanks before heading up the first set of carpeted stairs.

"_Ouch_."

Claudia paused on the landing, panicking slightly at the sound of the whisper that had carried up from the kitchen. The voice had been brief enough and quiet enough that she couldn't place the person to whom it belonged, but she knew she had heard it. With even more care, she ascended another step.

A small clatter reached her ears again, and with it she felt a strong tug of a feeling she was quite akin to. Curiosity; pulling her like a magnet back down the stairs.

Reaching the doorway to the kitchen, she slowly peered around inside. Her brow furrowed. There was no one within. She stepped more boldly into the small room, her eyes darting about; sure that it had not been a trick of her mind.

Another clatter came from the pantry, and Claudia's eyes flew wide open. She didn't dare run, for it would only attract more attention to herself. Instead, she froze; planted to the ground on which she stood. She simply stood and watched as a small person emerged from the pantry, carrying a wooden footstool that seemed to be too heavy for their small arms to sustain.

Claudia blinked, trying to make sense of the image before her. But what she saw was true. A little boy—who seemed to be one hundred percent oblivious to her presence—set the footstool in front of the kitchen counter. He climbed onto it, wobbling precariously on its uneven limbs. Placing his small hands on the countertop, he pulled himself up until he sat on top of it. Then, carefully standing, he opened the cupboard and rummaged within for a few moments before finding what he had been searching for. His arm retracted with a tin container in his grasp.

Setting the container upon the counter, he closed the cupboard as carefully and silently as he could manage before squatting and lowering himself back onto the footstool, snatching the tin, and hopping to the floor. A grin spread upon his little face, reaching from one ear to the other as her turned to exit from the kitchen. He paused to pry the lid from the container and extract a cookie. His pale, green eyes lifted, only to find Claudia standing directly in his path.

He froze.

Her mouth fell ajar, gaping at the sight before her. The little boy's expression nearly mirrored her own.

His head was covered with short, dark hair. Round hazel, green eyes filled with guilt as they looked up in shock at her. Pink, rosebud lips formed a perfect 'O' as his little mouth gaped at her in return. His ears stuck out a little on either side of his round head.

"Claudia?"

She pivoted to find the source of the voice behind her. Her mouth continued to hang open, catching flies, as her eyes settled upon the familiar form of Leena. She began to stammer senselessly and completely incoherently. "Oh _God!_ Is—I—oh my God! Leena—he—he's-"

"Claudia," Leena silenced her. She stepped forward, setting a gentle hand on Claudia's shoulder. Smiling, she offered her welcome and comfort even after so long. She then gestured to the little boy, who hid the cookies behind his back.

"Claudia, meet Noah."

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_**A/N:**__ And the twists continue…REVIEW! =D Thanks for reading!_

_By the way! I'm thinking of changing the summary of this story, let me know what you think! Should I?_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Warehouse 13 and its original characters or plots. If I did, a Bones/Warehouse crossover episode would be in order! =D_

_**Author's Note: **__First off, I have to apologize for the wait. It's been like 3 months since my last update. I hope not all of my readers have scattered and disappeared in the time! But, so you know, I am already working on the next chapter, so I'm hoping to have it up in short order – not in another 3 months or so ;) Also, this chapter is shorter, so don't shoot me. It's more of a segway chapter than anything. Still, I hope you enjoy, and I REALLY hope you review ;D I love you reviewers more than the world! So, without further a-do, enjoy!_

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_Fives years earlier_

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be." She spoke softly, her pale eyes looking up at him, so forlorn. She shook her head, chestnut brown curls jostling lightly on her shoulders. Her eyes darted down to her hands, her nimble fingers wringing her wrists. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be, Pete."

A low sigh rasped through his lips. He pushed his short, dark hair back with callused fingers. "I know." In three repeated strides, back and forth and again, he paced the length of the bedroom. His warm, dark eyes sought her face. He watched for a moment as she worried her lower lip with her teeth. "But," he exhaled brusquely, closing the distance between them in one step, "but it doesn't matter." He gently took her hands, pulling them away from each and into his grip. His rough fingers caressed them gently as he knelt before her, his dark eyes piercing hers with an infuriated expression of fervent love. "Not to me anyway. Myka, this doesn't change _anything_! I still love you. I still want to marry you! If it weren't for those bastards I would have done that a long time ago. So it doesn't matter to me what they think or what they say. I don't give a damn so long as I have you!"

Myka's eyes clouded with moisture as she forced them away from Pete's face. She pursed her lips for a moment, looking off to the side. "But that's what I mean, Pete!" She pulled her hands out of his, retracting away from him. "They have _power_. They _have_ the power to take us away from one another. They can do whatever the hell they want so long as the majority see it fit to deal with the situation at hand! They don't care how you _feel_! They don't _care_ how I _feel_! They just need to wash their hands of this mistake."

A tear rolled over cheek as she shut her eyes against the moisture. Pete quickly maneuvered himself onto the bed beside her, brushing the salty tear from her fair face. He gently wrapped his arms around her, leeching her into his lap, her back resting on his defined chest. Her head fell to its resting place on his collar bone, leaning against his neck. His hands rested on the soft flatness of her belly. He dropped a kiss on her neck before pressing his lips to her ear. "It's not a mistake." He felt warm tears on his neck as she turned her head, shielding herself in his body. Tightening his grip on her, he placed another kiss atop her head, her curls tickling his face.

"How do you know?" Her words were mumbled against his skin, her lips lightly brushing his neck as she spoke. Her fingers smoothed down his forearms as they hugged her body. She could feel his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he responded to her touch.

"Because _this_ is not a mistake. Us being together is _not_ a mistake, Myka. There has not been a single moment since I confessed how I felt about you that I have regretted doing so. I didn't care what the Regents thought then, and I don't care what they think now." His grip tightened around her once more in his display of his protection.

"It's more than that, though, Pete." Her voice pleaded with him to understand the full concept of what she had meant. She strained her neck to look at his face. His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning with an angered passion. After three years with him, she had learned to recognize it, but it had never ceased to frighten her on some level. It was worst in the field, when a threat was posed to her, especially a more serious one, Pete would go into a state of raw rage. Adrenaline would pump through his veins as he bared his claws, ready to unleash this energy on her person who dared lay a hand on Myka. Often times, she would have to calm him afterwards so that he wouldn't be dangerous in his own right. It scared her shitless. "It's more than about the decisions that others want to make for us. It's more than about the Regents, or Artie, or Mrs. Frederic, or even the Warehouse at all. It's about _us_, Pete! I mean," she paused, searching his face, "are we even ready to be parents?"

Pete jerked his head down to meet her gaze. He recognized the apprehensive look in her eyes. He saw her fear. Lifting a hand, he ran a finger down her jaw, tilting her face upward. Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her, kissing her gently. She lifted her hand to the back of his head, her fingers playing at the swirl of hair at the nape of his neck. His arms relaxed, falling away from her as she twisted, repositioning herself over him. She straddled his body, a warm knot forming in the pit of her stomach. His hands pushed under the back of her shirt, running his fingers over her bare skin. She arched her back at his touch, her belly pressed flush against him. Her hands cradled his face as she leaned further into the kiss, deepening the passion. Pete abruptly pulled away, bringing his hands to her shoulders to hold her at bay as he clenched his jaw and swallowed slowly. Myka leaned her forehead against his and draped one hand on his neck as the pair raggedly caught their breath.

Opening his eyes, Pete found Myka looking back at him. A smile tugged at his lips and he kissed her lightly. He lifted a hand to graze her cheek with his thumb. "I don't believe in mistakes," he said slowly in a gruff, low voice. He watched Myka's pale eyes blink, her dilated pupils subsiding slightly. "We might not be ready now, but we will be."

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_**A/N: **__So, what do you think? Sweet, huh? =) I love writing these kinds of chapters. Spare me a few precious moments of your time and write me a review! Pretty please?_


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